Читать книгу Serenity Harbor - RaeAnne Thayne - Страница 8
ОглавлениеWHAT WAS GOING on here?
Bowie followed the gorgeous woman with the sleek fall of honey-blond hair, listening to the steady stream of one-sided conversation she seemed to be having with his heretofore nonverbal little brother.
He felt as if he had just slid down a rabbit’s hole, into a bizarro world where it wasn’t at all out of the ordinary for a woman to take a strange kid under her wing in the grocery store and where a pretty smile could divert an out-of-control boy from a full-blown meltdown.
He didn’t know what to think. Who was she? And how had she managed to reach his brother so quickly and so efficiently?
He certainly hadn’t been able to pull it off in the three weeks since Milo had been dumped in his lap—the brother he never knew existed, from the mother he hadn’t seen or heard from in nearly two decades.
He was no closer to knowing how to avert the frequent meltdowns than he’d been the day he got that phone call from Oregon Social Services and flew immediately to Portland—despite extensive research and training on behavior modification.
Rabbit hole. That accurately described where he’d been the last three weeks, falling down one blind chute after another.
A month ago, he thought he had his world pretty figured out. He had a fantastic job he loved that offered the sort of challenges he craved. Maybe he hadn’t been completely thrilled about leaving the excitement and dynamic energy of Silicon Valley at first, but after his first few months in town, Haven Point had been growing on him.
The town was small but charming, with a vast lake and soaring mountains that offered an abundance of recreational opportunities for a guy who loved the outdoors. He had been thrilled to take on the challenge of overseeing all the research and development at the new Caine Tech facility in town.
If he ever stopped to think about it, he couldn’t help a spurt of pride at how far he had come, all through his own talent and drive—from a fifteen-year-old homeless kid on the streets of Portland to a major shareholder and the director of R&D at one of the country’s most influential and innovative tech companies.
And then had come that phone call less than a month before and the difficult decisions with which he still wrestled.
“Before she died, his mother named you guardian to your brother,” the social worker had said. “It’s not legally binding as you had no formal agreement.”
“How could we?” he had shot back. “I haven’t known where she was for years, and I certainly didn’t know she’d had another kid, twenty-five years after she had me.”
If he had known, he wanted to think he would have tried to rescue Milo, to find some kind of stable situation where his half brother could get the medical and therapeutic treatment he so obviously needed.
“You’re under no legal obligation to take custody of Milo,” the social worker had gone on as if Bowie hadn’t spoken. “If you refuse, he will simply remain in the foster system. You should be aware that he will probably end up institutionalized in a special school, as he’s been...difficult.”
And just like that, he knew his life was about to change. He couldn’t do it. He had spent enough time in and out of foster homes, between Stella’s brushes with the law or her frequent court-ordered rehab stints or those times when she simply disappeared for weeks at a time.
How could he inflict the same kind of life on another kid? Somehow warehousing him somewhere—out of sight, out of mind—didn’t seem the answer either.
Bowie’s skills with a computer had paid off handsomely in shares and patents with Caine Tech, and he had more money than one man could ever spend. Since he had the resources to provide a better life for Milo, how could he live with himself if he walked away and tried to forget he had a half brother tucked away in an institution somewhere?
He still wanted to think he had made the best decision, going through with the guardianship papers. That didn’t necessarily make it an easy one—nor did his almost unlimited resources help him find qualified caregivers who would stick, as the last few days amply demonstrated.
“You think those are better than these? Hmm. You might be right. These are from right here in Idaho.” The woman with the dimpled smile held out a clear plastic bag near the cherry display. “I need to fill this bag about halfway. Can you help me do that?”
Milo nodded with an understanding and eagerness that shocked Bowie, who had seen nothing similar in his own interactions with him.
“Thank you, Milo,” she said with an approving smile when she apparently judged she had enough cherries. “That’s perfect. My friends will really love these. Can you help me find the bananas now? Do you know what a banana is?”
He didn’t nod or smile or otherwise give any indication he understood, but he led her directly to the stacks of greenish-yellow bananas.
She followed him there and was reaching for a bunch when a girl with red braids and a couple of missing teeth raced over to them.
“Miss Bailey! Miss Bailey! Hi, Miss Bailey!”
Milo’s new friend beamed at the girl, who threw her arms around the woman’s waist. “Hannah Lewis,” she exclaimed as she hugged her back. “Hello! Look how tall you are! And your hair’s gotten long. It’s still such a beautiful color. Are you sure we can’t trade?”
The girl giggled and tossed her red braids. “I haven’t seen you in forever! Since last summer, anyway. Are you going to be back teaching this year? I hope so! Mrs. Chatterton, the lady who replaced you, is nice and stuff but not as nice as you. My brother’s going into the second grade, and he was so sad that you weren’t going to be his teacher. Maybe now you can be!”
For a moment, sadness flickered across the woman’s lovely features, but she appeared to make an effort to wipe it away.
“I’m afraid I’m not coming back to Haven Point Elementary right now.”
“Why not? Don’t you like being a teacher? You’re so good at it! I liked having my third-grade teacher last year, Mrs. Morris, and I learned my multiplication tables really good from her, but you’re still my favorite.”
Miss Bailey—at least he had that much of a name—looked touched. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Hannah. Thank you. I’m afraid I’m not back to stay, only for a month, for my sister’s wedding. I’ll be gone again before school starts up in the fall.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.” Hannah looked as if she wanted to say more, but her mother called her over with a smile and friendly wave at Miss Bailey. “I’d better go. My dad’s waiting in the van, and we told him we would only be a second. Bye.”
“Good to see you, sweetheart.”
She hurried away, and Bowie finally spoke. “You’re a teacher. That’s why you knew just what to do with Milo.”
She looked down at the boy, who was fully concentrating on trying to twist together three ties from the produce bag rack.
“I was a teacher. I taught second grade at Haven Point Elementary School for three years. Well, I guess I’m still a teacher. I’ve spent the last year teaching English in South America. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself before I took off with Milo to buy cherries. I’m Katrina Bailey.”
“Bailey. Any relation to Mike, who runs the auto body shop?”
“That’s my uncle—and my stepfather. It’s a long story.”
He held out a hand. “Bowie Callahan. You’ve met my brother, Milo.”
She shook his hand, not bothering to hide the surprise in her expression. “Your brother.”
“Half brother. That’s an even longer story.”
“Well, Bowie and Milo, it was nice to meet you. I should go finish my shopping.”
He didn’t want her to leave suddenly. “Thank you for stepping in. Milo can be...difficult.” That was an understatement that didn’t begin to describe his obstinate sibling.
“No problem. Welcome to Haven Point.”
She started to push her cart away, but Milo raced after her and held out the tangled twist tie.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it with a soft smile toward the boy. “Goodbye.”
Milo didn’t return her smile—Bowie would have been shocked if he had, since he rarely did—but he wiggled his fingers in return, which Katrina Bailey seemed to find charming.
She pushed her cart away, reaching for a bag of green onions on her way. As she did, Bowie’s brain sifted through the information he had just learned from and about her, and he realized in an instant that she could be exactly what they needed.
If he were the churchgoing sort, he would have called her the answer to his prayers.
“Wait,” he exclaimed.
Katrina turned at his overloud call. “Yes?”
“Did I just hear you’re only in town for a month?”
“That’s right,” she said warily. “My sister is getting married in a few weeks.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you might be looking for a temporary job while you’re in Haven Point.”
She stared at him. “A job.”
“I’m in the market for a temporary nanny.” He turned around, away from Milo, and lowered his voice. “As you probably figured out, my brother has some issues. He’s autistic.”
“He has autism.”
Right. People first, then the condition. He was working on remembering the correct PC terminology. “That’s right. He’s on the spectrum, apparently moderate to severe.”
“Apparently?” As he might have expected, she keyed in on that single word.
“That’s what the test results say, anyway.” He didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the produce section of the grocery store, but here they were and he felt he needed to be honest with her. “I only met Milo less than a month ago and don’t know anything about his previous history. He has no medical records, no school records. Nothing.”
Her eyebrows rose in clear skepticism. “That’s impossible. Was he raised in the jungle?”
“Close enough.” How else would a person describe Stella’s alternative, nonconformist, substance-loving lifestyle?
“Impossible or not, that’s the situation. Though his hearing is fine, Milo is mostly nonverbal, at least as far as we can tell. He can say no, but that’s it.” He didn’t tell her no was Milo’s favorite word and he employed it hundreds of times a day.
“He has obvious behavioral challenges,” Bowie went on. “We’ve seen a couple of specialists over the last three weeks and they place him somewhere on the spectrum, but exactly where is tough to say. I only know he’s a difficult kid. I’ve been through three nannies in three weeks. The last one quit yesterday.”
That was why Bowie found himself in the supermarket, dealing with a meltdown he couldn’t handle.
“I’m sorry. But I don’t see how it concerns me. I’m only home to visit my family.”
“I’ve hired a new nanny who is an autism specialist and is supposed to be the top of her field, but she can’t be here for three weeks. I’ll be honest with you, Miss Bailey. I can’t take three weeks off work right now, and I’m desperate to find someone to help with him.”
She arched one of those expressive eyebrows. “So you decided to accost stray women in the supermarket and offer the job to them?”
He had the oddest feeling Katrina Bailey didn’t like him, though he couldn’t figure out exactly what he had done. “Not just any stranger,” he pointed out. “A woman who instinctively knew the right thing to do with Milo, where everyone else seems to flounder—and a schoolteacher who has already been vetted by the school system.”
“I haven’t taught in the last year,” she replied. “How do you know I haven’t been in prison during that time?”
“Have you?”
She made a face. “No. But you just met me five minutes ago and have no way of knowing that.”
“I saw the way you interacted with that girl. Hannah. She said you were her favorite teacher. Besides, I watched you with Milo. You’re obviously well trained and more patient with him than I can ever be. You knew just what to do during one of his tantrums.”
If he hoped to flatter her into taking the job, he was doomed to disappointment. At his words, her features seemed to tighten. “Dealing with a child in the midst of a meltdown can be challenging, but really, you only need a compassionate heart and a willingness to focus on the best interests of the child.”
Was she implying he didn’t have either of those things? Bowie might have been offended if he wasn’t afraid she was right.
He was trying, Bowie reminded himself. Hadn’t he immediately flown to Portland, brought the boy back to Haven Point, spent time away from Caine Tech he could ill afford in order to find the best care provider for him?
He didn’t need one more thing to feel guilty about.
“I do want the best for Milo. You’re the first person in three weeks who instinctively seems to know how to manage him.”
“He’s a child,” she retorted, pitching her voice low, presumably so Milo didn’t overhear. He could have told her his brother wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to them. He had pulled more twist ties off the roll and was forming them into tangled shapes.
“He’s a child,” she repeated. “Not some new product under development at Caine Tech. He doesn’t need to be managed.”
He wasn’t sure how she knew he worked at Caine Tech or why she reacted so strongly to that particular choice of words. Right now, it didn’t matter. The only thing he cared about was convincing her to help him.
“It was only a figure of speech,” he said. “Look, I’m desperate here. What am I supposed to do? I can’t keep missing work and I also can’t take Milo to the office with me. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
She didn’t look convinced by his plea. If anything, her features turned even frostier. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
He felt as if someone had just opened the doorway offering a light at the end of the tunnel and then slammed it shut again in his face.
“Not even for ten thousand dollars?”
She stared at him, her mouth slightly ajar. “Ten thousand dollars? You’re willing to pay ten thousand dollars for three weeks’ work?”
It probably wouldn’t be considered good business practice to admit he would be willing to pay much more than that, if only he could regain some semblance of control in his life.
“Okay. Twelve. But that’s my final offer.”
She looked dumbfounded, and for a moment he clung to a tiny sliver of hope that he might have a chance. In the end, she shook her head slowly, eyeing him like he had several loose screws.
“I said no,” she said. “I appreciate that you’re in a tight spot, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“You don’t have to answer right now. Think about it overnight. If you change your mind, you can find me at 4211 Lakeview Drive. It’s a big cedar-and-stone house right along Serenity Harbor.”
“I know where it is. But don’t count on me changing my mind, Mr. Callahan. I’m only in town for my sister’s wedding and to visit family. I have no intention of taking a temporary job.”
“Just think about it,” he said.
Before she could respond, a pretty redhead turned the corner of the vegetable aisle. He had met Samantha Fremont a few times since he came to town and found her nice enough, though he always left their interactions wishing he were better at small talk.
She appeared surprised to find him and Katrina talking together, then her carefully made-up features shifted into a bright smile.
“Hi, Bowie,” she said, her voice a little breathless, before she turned to Katrina.
“There you are!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been looking all over the store for you. You’re not finished shopping yet? What’s taking you so long?”
“I was just about to check out. We had a little...situation, but it seems to be under control now. Sorry about that.”
“No worries.” She turned back to Bowie. “I don’t know if you remember me, but we met a month or so ago at Snow Angel Cove. You work at Caine Tech with Aidan and Ben, right?”
Yes. And they were counting on him to deliver results, as soon as he figured out what to do with his brother. “I remember. Good to see you again.”
“I don’t know this little guy, though. Is this your son?”
Milo, who had reacted with uncharacteristic warmth to Katrina, gave Sam his blank, almost empty stare.
“This is my brother, Milo.”
“Hi there, Milo. My name is Samantha.”
With more of that odd affinity, he sidled closer to Katrina, who gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. Sam is nice. She’s my very best friend in the whole wide world and has been since we were just a little older than you.”
After a moment, Milo handed over another twist-tie creation. Samantha Fremont blinked in surprise at it for a moment, then accepted it gingerly.
“Um. Thanks,” she said, clearly at sea.
Katrina tugged her away.
“We have to go. We’re going to be late for a party. It was nice to meet you, Milo.”
She hadn’t said it was nice to meet him. Bowie told himself not to be disappointed by the omission.
“Think about it,” he said.
“I gave you my answer, Mr. Callahan. I won’t change my mind.”
As she walked away with her friend, he had to hope she was wrong about that. If not, he wasn’t sure how he would survive the next three weeks until the autism specialist could arrive.
* * *
KATRINA’S SHOULDER BLADES itched as she walked away from Bowie and Milo, and she was certain if she turned around, she would find one—or possibly both—of them watching after her.
This was what happened to women who didn’t mind their own business. They ended up having to turn down outrageous job offers they couldn’t for a moment actually be considering.
Sam waited only until they had headed for the checkout line before questions burst out of her. “What was that all about? What are you supposed to think about?”
“Nothing. That looks like the shortest line.” She headed for the checkout line closest to the door, waving at one of her mother’s friends as she went.
“It didn’t seem like nothing.” Sam gave a short laugh that didn’t sound entirely amused. She shook her head. “I turn my back for five minutes to pick up my mom’s blood pressure medication and come back to find you chatting with the hottest guy in town. I should have expected it. Good to see some things don’t change. You’re still the same flirty Kat.”
She wasn’t. The last year had changed her profoundly, in ways she couldn’t begin to explain to Sam.
“Did he ask you out?” Samantha’s voice had a strangely careful quality to it as she started pulling items out of the cart and setting them on the belt.
“No!” Katrina exclaimed, more sharply than she meant to. “No. It wasn’t like that at all. He’s looking for a temporary caregiver for his younger brother. That’s all.”
“Like a babysitter?”
“More like a nanny, I guess.”
“I still can’t believe that’s his brother, though I suppose they do look alike.”
Katrina wasn’t sure she completely agreed. They had the same color hair and eyes, though the boy’s skin was a shade or two darker and his mouth was different.
Not that she noticed.
“He seemed like a cute kid, though I don’t know what this is about.” Sam dangled the little twist-tie sculpture Milo had made for her.
“It’s a penguin. Can’t you tell?”
“No. Apparently you have to have an elementary education degree to fully appreciate the artistry.”
“Apparently.”
“No wonder the man wants you to be his kid brother’s nanny. You’re perfect for it—even though he only met you five minutes ago.”
She was still reeling from the dollar signs that had temporarily danced in front of her gaze when he mentioned the amount he was willing to pay. That would more than pay the rest of her legal costs in Colombia from her grasping attorney.
“I said the same thing. He knows absolutely nothing about me, yet he wants to hand over his brother to me.”
“How did all that happen in the five minutes I was at the pharmacy?”
She replayed the conversation in her head and still couldn’t quite make sense of it. “Milo is on the autism spectrum. He was in the middle of a meltdown in the middle of the produce aisle over some grapes. I was somehow able to divert his attention, and now Bowie Callahan apparently thinks I’m some kind of miracle worker. Anne Sullivan to Milo’s Helen Keller. It’s ridiculous, really.”
But twelve thousand dollars. How could she turn it down?
“You’re not taking the job?”
“I’m only here for a few weeks. I don’t want to spend my whole time taking care of some rich guy’s brother who has autism, no matter how cute he is. The brother, I mean.”
“Are you kidding? You should totally take the job. I would jump at the chance to work for Bowie Callahan.”
“Too bad he’s not in the market to hire a personal shopper or something. Especially one who specializes in women’s fashions.”
“If he needed my particular skills, I would figure out a way. I’m not the only one. Half the women in town are in love with the man. When Eppie and Hazel saw him for the first time, I was afraid they would go straight into cardiac arrest.”
Yet another reason she didn’t want to take the job. She’d had enough of good-looking men to last her a lifetime.
She had learned her lesson well after what happened in South America with that idiot Carter Ross.
“You’re totally going to do it. I can see you wavering.”
“I’m not,” she protested.
Before Sam could argue, the shopper ahead of them picked up his receipt and bag from the checker and it was their turn.
“Hey, Katrina!” The checker, an older woman with unnaturally blond hair and nicotine-stained teeth, beamed at her. “I thought that was you when you first came in earlier. My line was backed up and I didn’t have time to come find you to say hello.”
Her smile felt tight and forced. She genuinely liked Filene Harding, but their encounters were always a bit awkward. Katrina had dated Filene’s son a few times in high school, and Filene always acted as if they had a much closer bond than Katrina thought.
“Hi, Filene. How are you?”
“Good. Good. How are you, hon? I heard you’ve been in Mexico or some crazy thing like that.”
“Colombia, actually. A little village about an hour from Barranquilla.”
Filene didn’t seem to care about the details. “You know, it’s the funniest thing that you came in today. I was just looking at a picture of you at the prom with my Bryan the other day. You two were so cute together! I always thought so. I’ll have to tell him you’re back in town.”
Bryan Harding had been renowned for his octopus hands in high school. Once she figured that out after the second date, she tried her best to avoid the guy. “How is Bryan these days?” she asked to be polite, then could have kicked herself for encouraging the woman.
“Good. Good. He’s working construction with his brother. He was living with a gal, but they broke up a few weeks ago. She kicked him out, if you want the truth. I don’t know why, because they seemed so happy together. So now he’s back living in my basement.”
“Didn’t he have a little boy a few years back with some girl in Boise?” Sam asked.
The red-painted corners of Filene’s mouth turned up as she scanned their groceries. “He’s got two. Different mamas, of course. Six months apart. They’re the cutest little things. Spittin’ image of their daddy. You should see them.”
She doubted that would happen, since she and Bryan Harding didn’t run in the same social circles. They never really had, she supposed.
When she was about thirteen, Bryan had been one of the first guys who noticed she was finally starting to grow into her features and had begun to develop some curves. They had flirted a little, just in fun, and she sneaked out of the house to go to the movies with him a few times, until she figured out he only wanted to see how lucky he could get with StupidKat.
She supposed Bryan was the first in a long line of dumb decisions she had made when it came to the male of the species. No more. She was done wasting her time and energy on the players of the world.
“I’ll be sure to tell Bryan I ran into you,” Filene said as she rang up the last of their groceries. “You staying at your mom’s place while you’re in town?”
“For now,” she hedged as she swiped her debit card, ever mindful of the depleting balance in her account. “Thank you. See you.”
She scooped up one bag while Samantha grabbed the other and hurried out of the store.
She didn’t want Bryan to find her. Or any other guy, for that matter.
In a few months, she would have everything she never knew she wanted. Everything else seemed unimportant.
